The Game
by Nuky
Summary: What would you do when you wake up trapped in a room, hearing you'll have to fight for you're own life and work with you're enemy? What would you do after entering The Game? This is SandsEl there Game.
1. Trapped

**This is just an idea I came up with on msn with my best Me-Loves-Orli. It was supposed to be a humour story. But the energiedrinks are kicking in and I started brainstorming. Now it's going to be angst/dark. It's a little bit stolen from Saw, only the idea, not any characters. I have no idea where this is going to and so you know it has nothing to do with my other OUATIM story.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own a damn thing.**

**Chapter 1) Instructions **

'What the…?' He shifted around and felt a body next to him. He jerked away. His head pounding like he got the mother of all hangovers. 'Where the hell am I!' He tried to get up, feeling very sick. Iron chains scratched over the floor and his breath speeded up. 'Fucking Christ! What is this!' For the millionth time he cursed himself for losing his eyes.

Suddenly the body next to him moved and a hand touched his shoulder. Without a second thought he slapped the hand away and hit the person right in the face with his other.

Twenty different Spanish cursed were spat in his face. If he would still have his eyes they would be popping out of his head right now. "El?"

The curses got cut of by a shocked gasp. "Sands!"

His brain started to spin and hurt even more. "Fucking hell…" He was too shocked to respond in a normal way. Thankfully El's reaction was better.

"What are you doing here!" He hissed, clearly still mad about the hitting part.

"I was just about to ask you the same question, fucker." He snapped back. Uncomfortable he sat back against a wall behind him. "So where are we anyway?"

"What are you blind?" the man besides him snored.

He clenched his hands. "In a matter of fact, I_ am_ fuckwit, but that's none of your fucking business. So just answer my question before I rip your tong out!" He didn't feel much for discussions right now, he never did, now he thought about it.

It was silent for a moment. 'The' is probably still trying to figure out what's the matter with me.' He smirked. 'Good, hopefully he got an even worse headache than I have right now…' At his pleaser he indeed heard the man moan and rubbing his head.

"I don't know where we are, gringo. It's to dark to see anything." The man muttered clearly in pain, which only made his joy bigger.

His sarcastic and annoying side started to come up again. "Jee, El maybe you should open your eyes, that could possibly make a difference. And once you're at that, try to find out where we are."

"Shut up gringo, we're here probably _because_ of you!" El's voice was angry and low. Like he would be scared by that, what an asshole was that Mariachi. He had been through so fucking much, threat full voices were nothing he couldn't deal with.

"Fuck you, 'The', if you won't even try to look where we are I'll do it." Pissed he stood up, supporting himself by the wall. "Let's_ see_, metaphorically speaking off course, find a door." His hands slid over the wall. It was iron, cold as ice. 'That's odd, this is Mexico the only thing that's cold in this god damn country is the tequila…' He took a couple op steps, still trying to scan the room.

Suddenly his right foot got pulled back and he almost tripped. "Fuck what's that!" chains jingled over the floor. Sands turned to the sound, horrified. "El, please tell me we're not-"

"_Chained_." It sounded as miserable as his own voices. "Si, we're chained at each other."

"No, please, god at least have a little mercy!" he let himself drop against the wall and slid down until he sat on the floor. "Can't you just kill me, please? I mean getting hooked up with El Stupido… I may be a psygopathic killer, but this is even to much hell for me!"

"Don't flatter yourself, gringo, do you think I'm enjoying this, being stuck with you!"

He couldn't help smirking. "Well, you might think it's horny, I mean how long has it been since your pretty wife died? And I don't think El Honour will break his wedding promise, am I right or what?"

Before he knew it he received a blow on his jaw. His head shot against the wall and he gasped in surprise and pain. He didn't got time to rub his jaw or even curse. Two strong hand wrapped around his throat, cutting of his air.

"_Never_ talk about my Carolina, bastardo! One more word and I will break my promise to never kill the disabled!" The hands wrapped around his neck even more. Sands gasped and tried to kick El away. But his opponent was physically stronger then he was, and they both knew that.

Just when everything started to get dizzy a voice stared to talk to him. First he thought it was just a random voice in his head. But when he noticed El's grip eased a little he knew the voice was real. This made him even feel more sick.

"_Good morning gentlemen!" _A computer-like voice cheered through the cold room.

El's hands let him go completely. His first urge was to jump on the man and beat the shit out of him, but then the voice thing got more of his interest. "Hey, fuckmook, what the hell is this suppose to mean!"

"_That dear Sheldon J. Sands, is one very good question…" _

Sands paled. The voice knew his name and that… just couldn't be good. But he got cut off by the laughter of El. Angrily he jerked around. "Where are you laughing at!"

Another low laugh. "Your first name is Sheldon! Your parent must have hated you very, _very _much!"

Without further thinking he jumped on the man, not caring the other was much stronger. He grabbed the man by the neck and hold his fist up ready to hit.

"_I wouldn't do that if I where you mister Sands." _

Sands looked up in annoyance. "Give me one good reason not to."

"_Because, mister Sands, dead bodies are hard to drag along. In case you haven't noticed, you're chained to El Mariachi." _

"And what on earth makes you think I'm going to wear a dead Legend as jewellery?"

"_No mister Sands, that's not my point." _

"Then what _is_, fuckmook, I don't have all day you know!"

"_My point is, you'll need him in The Game." _

Sands frowned. Something about this sounded very bad. Not just not very nice, but bad. He didn't knew what it was, but he knew one thing. It was going to be more than just playing chess. "And am I suppose to fall down on the floor right now and pray for mercy!" he grinned trying to stay calm.

"_No, mister Sands, I** except** you to listen, very good. As a matter of fact your sorry little life depends on it." _

He felt his hopes sink into his shoes. The voice sounded death cold and wasn't half as friendly as two minutes ago.

"_Good, now I see that I've got your attention… Listened good, both of you. You're about to get the change to play The Game. Every little step you take can lead to your death. Everything you do can and** will** effect you or another player. If you even think about cheating you will get disqualified immediately. Every round you'll get a mission. If you succeed the mission you'll get a step higher. If you lose well… you lose your life and much more. You'll get one night to prepare yourself, physical and mental. In the morning you both get your weapon. One last important thing, you're a team, if one dies, the other will follow soon…" _

There was a small screeching noise and the voice was gone. Silent filled the room. Sands was too shocked to even say something. Slowly he stood up from El and sat down. He swallowed. "Motherfucking Christ, where the hell did we land…"

**A little dumdumdum is well placed isn't it? Yes, think so too. Once again not sure where the story is going, also not sure when I will update again. **

**Please review I'm dying to know what you think about this dark/angst fic of mine.**

**Luvzzzz Sue-AnneSparrow.**


	2. Layer one, entering The Game

**Who people thanks for all the revieuws! LUV YAY!**

**And very very very much thank to Sands-Agent, for the beta!**

**Layer one) Entering The Game. **

Shocked he held his breath. 'This couldn't be true right?' He swallowed dryly. 'There was just no way they were stuck here… and have to play a game to survive, right?' Tense he pushed himself back against the wall feeling the coldness of the iron. 'No, it had to be a trick, or some very sick joke. There was just no way I and Sands-'

_"You have…twelve hours until The Game."_ A mechanical voice drilled through the room.

'This is just a very sick joke… Lorenzo did this, yeah that's it.' He smiled nervously. 'Just a joke.'

"El?" It sounded from the other end of the room. "Do you think that fuckshit is kidding?" He paused. "I mean… there is nothing like a deadly game, right? It has to be the CIA trying to fuck with me, right?"

"Why do you ask me?" He grunted.

"Because you're the only person in the god damn room, simpleminded, that's why!" Sands snapped back.

He clenched his teeth. For a moment he forgot he was talking to Sands, the man that simply had a snappy comeback for everything. Ever since he first met the man he knew he meant trouble.

"So,_ The_, is it still dark in the room?" Sands said to him after a long pause.

"Si, still no light." He answered shortly, not in the mood to talk, especially not to Sands. He needed to think, need to think about this whole situation. Needed to-"

_" Eleven and half hour left until The Game, use you're time wisely..."_

A cold shiver run throw his body. "Why do I get the feeling-" 

Sands cut him off. "Like we're been _watched_?"

He nodded pointless. "Si." Very uncomfortable he pushed his knees up and wrapped his arms around them. 'Why is it here so cold?' 

"El? I think it's no joke… I think this shit might be for real… Think about it, why would anyone go through so much trouble, just to scare us shitless?"

El felt his stomach turn around. "I don't think they want to scare us, Gringo. I think they want us _dead_."

The man across the room let out a soft gasp. "But… that doesn't make any sense, why not just shoot use?"

El closed his eye's, his head still hurt from the drugs ore whatever the shot into his neck. He didn't remember much from the day, or day's, before. The only thing he did remember was that he was walking back to his home after a night of playing. Then something stung in his neck and the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes again was darkness.

His eyes shot open. "They want to torture us first. I once hear about something called _El juego del Destino_, The game of Doom. It was one of the ways of the Cartels to get there enemy to speak. They questioned the poor man, if they didn't speak or didn't knew the answer the got thrown into a ring. In that ring were wild dogs, snakes or other deadly animals. After a while they got dragged up from the ring and got asked the same question." He stopped for a moment. "Mostly El juego del Destino, got used for entertainment." 

Sands snored. "Jee, El you just know how to cheer up a guy don't ya? I don't want to know what kind of bedtime stories you tell." El threw daggers at the other side of the room and a silence fell. 

_"Ten hours until The Game, better start preparing…"_

"Fuck you!"

_"Nine hours until The Game, better prepare good."_

"Go fuck yourself."

"Sands, shut up!"

"Fuck you, mind your own business!"

Again silence.

_"Eight hours until The Game, pay attention to the time you have left…" __  
_  
"I swear if that motherfucker says one more word I'll-"

"Sands shut up! I want some rest!"

"Like I care!"

Somehow he drifted into sleep. Not a very long sleep ,though. Something woke him up. Angry his eyes opened and immediately he was blinded by sharp light shining into the room. Confused he looked around. The room was made fully out of iron. There was no door nor window to see. Just cold smooth iron surrounding him. With his open mouth he stood up and turned around, looking up to the roof and back tot the floor. "Santa Maria, what is this place!"

"Owh,_ goody_, I guess you can see again." It sounded moody from the ground. El glared at Sands, but didn't respond.

A little disappointed Sands continued. "So, what's the room like?" 

Slowly he walked to the nearest wall and touched the cold iron. "It's iron, every single thing is made of iron. With no windows ore doors…" 

"Don't talk shit El, there has to be a door how else did we get _in_!" 

"No si." Frowning he looked up to the roof. 'Something is very wrong here. Why is there no trail of a way in… or out…'  
_  
__"One hour until The Game, better notice something or get stuck already…" ___

El rolled his eye's. 'Why doesn't that thing just shut up! There was nothing to notice or do, there was nothing-'

A slow but definite close sound screeched through the room and kicked him out his tough. 'That wasn't there before…' He turned around, his eye's shooting throw the room. Suddenly he stopped and went dead cold.

"Sands… the room, was it always this _small_?" Trying to control his fear he stared at the agent. The man stood up and walked from one end of the room to another. He touched the wall and let out a soft gasp. 

"Fuck, seven steps, _seven_! _Just_ seven!" He turned around, looking just as shocked as El. "When we came here, it was about twelve! The room is getting smaller!"

A cold hand wrapped around El's throat, he couldn't breath. 'This can't be real, a room can not get smaller!'

_"Twenty minutes until The Game, hurry up, time is running out…"_

The agent in front of him tensed "Fuck!" This time his curse wasn't hatful but frightened. "El...What if this is our first mission! To get out before-" He pointed at the walls. The grip around his throat got tighter. What Sands said sounded nuts, but at the same time so horribly right. What if-

SCRRRRREAK 

His huge eye's he looked at the four walls moving closer, this time faster than before.

"Fuck!" Sands jolt back away from the walls. "They are moving aren't they!"

"They are." He stuttered. Panicking looked through the room. After he realised the walls moved in closer again he started to slam on the walls. "NO!_ STOP_!"  
_  
__"Twelve minutes until The Game, need to hurry up, **RIGHT NOW**!"_

"You fucking motherfucker!" Sands yelled. "Quit fucking with me, get this fucking room back to normal or I'll cut you're fucking hands off!" His voice sounded very pissed off but his faces was filled with fear. El noticed it, but didn't care, he just wanted to get out.

Again his eye's shot through the room. But there was nothing more than walls, only walls, no escape. Just nothing!

_"Ten minutes until show off, get ready, or **die** trying…"_

The walls started to move again, there was now no more than five sixteen feet between the walls. His breathing started to speed up, just like his heartbeat. 'If I don't do something very fast I'll get crushed!'

"El, what the fuck man, what the _fuck_!" He wasn't the only one with breathing issues. Sands stood against one of the four walls getting paler by the second. "What the fuck should we do?" 

_"Eight minutes until The Game, so hurry… get up… the next level or stay here forever."_

Something clicked in his minded. '_GET UP_!' He's head jerked up to the ceiling. 'Of course, that's why the roof isn't getting smaller. He smiled in relief. "Sands we have to get up! That where the voice come from, that's why it's so…" He paused and his smile disappeared. "Why the roof is so_ high_…" 

Sands started to laugh like a madman. "Jee, El thanks, I feel much better right now! Knowing there is a way out of this horrifying dead, but unable to get there! Thank you very fucking much!"

El cursed to himself. 'This is too ironic, I found the way out, but I can't get to there!'

_"Five minutes until the game, feeling the heat already?"_

The walls came so close he could patchily jump from the one to the other. El swallowed. 'I'm almost getting stuck between-… wait a second!

"Sands!" He yelled. "Get here and turn around."

Sands frowned. "Hey if you think you can have one last quick fuck you got the wrong address, sickshit."

It took very much self-control not to the strangle the man. "Just get over here!"

"Okay, okay, no need to get so god damn _uptight_, witching a minister or three you will be a fucking pizza and get sent straightaway to heaven." Extremely annoyed Sands walked to him and turned around, back facing him. El also turned around.

"Listen good Sands, place one foot against the wall, when I do the same place you're other foot next to the other."

Sands turned his face toward him. "El, you honourable son of a bitch , you're fucking brilliant!" The man behind him placed his other feet against the wall and he did the same.

"Push up!" He ordered. The body behind him pushed against his back and slowly they stepped up. They where half way, then the voice started to talk again.

_"Three minutes until The Game, time is running out gentleman…"_

The walls moved in close. "OWH _fuck_!" He heard Sands curse. Before he knew it the man lost his balance, his feet slide away and fall down.

El's eyes widened when he was about to fall. In reflex he stretch his legs and manages to push himself between the walls. He only forgot he was chained to the CIA agent. The weight of the man below him proved almost too much. His legs started to shake. He gashed and it caused him a enormous amount of power to stay stuck.

"Sands!" He yelled, not wanting to fall down, because they where hanging about seventeen feet above the ground. "Do something!"

"I _can't_! The chains making me spin in circles! I can't get find grip!"

El cursed under his breath. 'This looks bad, very, _very_ bad!' 

_'Two minutes until The Game, how are you hanging boys?"_

"Fuck you! You_ fucking_ piece of shit! I swear if I find you I'm gonna rip your _fucking_ tongue out!" Sands yelled furious, making the chains stir. El felt his feet slowly slip away. He panicked. "Sands hold still don't move or we fall and there is no way we will get up before the wall crush us!"

That made the agent stop moving. El sighed. 'Thank god, I made him shut up!' But, it didn't make the wall less slippery. Slowly he started to slide down. With all his power he tried to stay stuck, but he knew, it was too much. 'This is going to be my ending.' He closed his eyes.

Suddenly the chain started to move again. "El! I found it! This is where the voice comes from!"

His eyes shot open and he looked down. Sands pointed at a small red spot on the wall. "I fucking did it!" He laughed. "I fucking_ saved_ our life!"

El rolled his eyes. "Just do something, Gringo, before the walls move again, I don't think I can hold it for much longer!"

"Sorry to _ruin_ your day mister sunshine!" Sands snapped back. The chain stirred again and El cursed. 'Damn this is heavy!'. 

"Uhhu… El?"

With clenched teeth he looked down. "_Yes_!"

"It's not really working out…"

"Dios bueno! How hard is it to push a red button! If I can hold your weight and mine ,the least you could do is push a button!"

"I _am_ pushing it, fuckshit! And it's not working!"

El cursed loudly. "Why didn't I get chained to a piece of _plumb_! That would be more helpful than you!" Slowly he let himself slight down the wall.

_"One minute until The Game!"_

Again the walls moved in, not more than three feet was left between. El tried to stay in control over his breathing. 'Stay calm, please stay calm.'

_"Ten seconds until The Game!"_

"El do something! I can feel the walls!"

'Stay calm, stay calm.' His foot where right in front of the red spot. "Stay… calm!" With all the power he had left he kicked against the spot. A very thin sheet of iron cracked. A small camera turned visible. He looked deadly into the camera and kicked the thing into pieces.

The lights switch on and off. Slowly the walls moved back again. It didn't take long until there was no more grip. He let out a yell and the both of them fell down.

_"Congratulation, gentleman, you both made it to the seconded ground, instruction will get ensued soon…"_

El moaned and looked up to the roof. 'That was close, _very_ close. I nearly got killed by four walls…'

"El?" It sounded softly.

"What!" He snapped.

"Get you're fucking ass of _off _me!"

**Okay this was it. The first Game. Hope you liked to play. ******

**I got to say one thing before I end. I have no idea ore clue what I have to let happen in the next chaps, again I only know a very very small bit about the ending. But that's it. So if you have any idea please tell me, else it will take years for me to get something good. ******

**DO please revieuw! ******

**Luvzzzz Sue-AnneSparrow.**


	3. Rules of the next round

**Sorry I didn't update since forever but this is a extremely hard story to writhe, cause I have tob e very creative with the layers. **

**Disclaim: I don't own anything of OUATIM and I don't own the idea of Battle Royal. It's a movie, already made… not mine… damn!**

**Warning: I didn't let someone beta, cause I wanted to update soon… and It's late and I'm tired… and owh I'll shut up….**

**Rules of the next round)**

"_Morning Gentleman." _A angelic voice cheered.

El's eye's shot open and he pushed himself up. Dizzy and nauseous he walked throw the iron room. It took some time to get his vision clear. He blinked and starred at the man beside him. 'Why am I still in this cell?' He scratched his neck and touched cold metal. It was a collar with one small light in the middle, going on, off, on, off. 'What the….!"

"_Señor, can I have you're attention please?" _

El turned around and saw a large screen on the wall. A nice looking women looked down on him. She smiled and a row white teeth got visible. _"Nice to see you're listening señor." _She was defiantly Mexican. Not only her heavy accents gave her away. Her hair was black and curly. Her eye's where dark brown and sparkly. Lips full and red. She reminded him a little of Carolina.

"_It might be smart if you woke the other señor." _She said smiling. _"The information I will give you in a moment will be extremely important to play The Game." _

'She's in it.' El realised bitter. He didn't though he would ever think this, but he wanted to kill that women.

She rose a eyebrow. _"Señor you should know I have a certain amount of time. You better hurry up, else you don't know the rules of The Game." _The way she smiled then made El shiver. _"And you don't want that…"_

He shot daggers at her then kneeled down. "_Sands_!" He hissed, shaking the man not so gently. "Wake up!" A fist hit him in the face before he could react.

"Don't touch me fucker!" Sands snapped while he rubbed his jaw. "And why did you wake me up!"

"Because, gringo, someone is about to tell use what 'the rules' of 'The Game' are. And it might be important if you want to stay alive, so wake up, open you're ears and listen!" All this snappy information seemed to wake up Sands. They both looked up.

"_Good." _Again the women smiled. _"Now you're both awake, I'm going to tell you the rules of the next layer. Please don't speak while I'm speaking. You got one change to listen, if not, you won't know the rules and you get disqualified." _

Sands already opened his mouth to make a remark but El poked him hard between the ribs.

"_You both made it to Layer two. This Layer called Battle Royal. Within a hour you will get you're weapons, just like the rest of the players. After you got you're weapons the doors opened and you will, and have to, go into the labyrinth. There you have to find a way to the next Layer. There will only be two people to make it to the next Layer. More people will get killed… sooner or later. You have to work with you're team-mate to survive. As you already know you both got a collar. The collar register you're heartbeat. If that stops both collars will get trigger and electrocution will be you're death." _

Sands as El looked at each other, both in disgust realising they had to work together. And both shocked by the twisted rules to force them to play The Game.

The women on the screen started to smile again. _"And last piece of information. Everyone in Layer two has a weapon. Every weapon as a strong and weak point. If you eliminated one of the teams you can use there weapons. But once again, very weapons has a strong and weak point…"_The women waved cheery and the screen went to black.

El could only stare at the dark screen. Nothing seemed to make sense. Why would anyone make a game like this! What was the big purpose behind it? Everything about The Game made him dead cold. Everything he was about to do could get him killed. And if Sands made one mistake it would be _also_ his end. He let himself slide down to the ground. This was to much.

The same thought must have popped into Sands head. "El, this would be the biggest mess I ever got myself into… except maybe the getting blind part…"

El's eye's narrowed. "Why are you still playing a childish game Sands! Where about to get killed and you just keep acting like you can't see."

The man across him started to laugh. It sounded a bit like the laugh of the women, something in it made him shiver. "Damn it El, something you're stupidity surprises me… I thought whole Mexico had heard already about my little 'disagreement' with Barillo." The agent looked up and slowly removed his glasses.

El starred, impossible to say anything. He swallowed dryly and let out a soft yelp. Agent Sands, the man who seemed to slippery to get thought, lost his eye's. The only thing left where two dark holes and scare tissue. It was horrible to look at.

"Good, now we solved that little disagreement." Sands said, putting his glasses back on. "Back to bushiness. First _never_ talk about," he pointed at the glasses, "that again. And let's discuss what where about to do. I'm not in the mood to sit here and worry my ass off."

El's mouth hung still half open. 'How could his voice be so cold and uncaring? He lost his EYE'S!'

"El, you're still with me ore did the sight of the real me scare you so shitless you already died? If so, thanks for nothing fuckwit!"

"Sands how-" He started but got cut off.

"-I said _never _talk about that again." His tone was demanding determent. "Now what are we going to do in the next round, or _Layer_ like that bitch called it?"

Right then a sniper dropped down on the floor just like a large piece of thick plastic with two drop-handles on the sides. El waited a second, not knowing what to except then grabbed the sniper and the thick piece of plastic.

"What is it El?" Sands questioned.

El examined the piece of plastic. It was about three feet high and very strong, no doubt. "It's a shield." He picked up the sniper. "And a sniper." His hope lightened up. He was good ad shooting. But quickly his hope died. "With _one_ bullet."

Sands cursed and kicked against the nearest wall. El sat down feeling low. 'Who know how many other players there are! What am I going to do with one bullet, a piece of plastic and a blind cocky ex-CIA agent?'

Right then a siren shrieked throw the room.

"_ONE HOUR UNTIL LAYER TWO!" _

**It's short I know that. But it's really hard to writhe. But don't worry next chap won't take to long I have a idea what's going to happen next.**

**Review for a very quick updated chapter!**

**Luvzzz Sue-AnneSparrow.**


	4. Layer two Battle Royal Part I

**Back from the dead, here is a new chapter from The Game. Made by me. Not owned by me. Sands/El not mine…**

Much thanks to Jet, for the betaing:D

**Layer two) Battle Royal Part I.**

"_It's time for The game, gentleman. Hope you're prepared and may I wish you luck."_

"Shut up bitch." Sands mumbled. El didn't replies reply. He just stared emotionless at the white wall. He'd been reloading and removing the bullet since the moment he found the weapon. He had just one chance to succeed. If not it would be over. It would die a horrifying death. He would be killed because someone else had to. Not because they where enemies, no because some bastard said they had to. And that was what ate him, he never fought because he was told to. He fought for himself.

Sands didn't thought any different about the whole situation. Since the moment he got with the CIA he knew one thing for sure. He would never work for someone. He was too smart and cocky to listen to some dog barking orders at him. Of course he had to do that for a couple of years, but after that he was on his own. And because of the good training from the CIA he quickly knew his way with manipulating people. And he made use of those persons. He wasn't thinking of fighting the hard way, that's how you get killed easily. No, he let (others) fight for him.

"_Here you go, guys. Have a nice time."_

"Sounds we're going to freak'n Disneyland." Sands muttered. Somehow it didn't matter in what situating he got his sorry ass in, he always had to make a comment. Again, his way of life.

He heard El get up and was surprised he didn't get a short answer back.

A scratching sound just like yesterday echoed through the room and he figured that would be their door to doom.

"Guess, we're going then?" He grinned.

"No, we wait."

Sands frowned. "Why, all the action is at the end of the tunnel."

"And that's way _we _stay here. We have a very small chance out there."

Sands nodded, knowing El was meaning him. Kind of stung him because he never forgot how to shoot and he wasn't disabled as El p presumed. He was still deadly. _Just the aiming began to rust since that day._

"Could be." He said and leaned against the wall.

"_It's time for The Game, Gents."_

"Yeah, we heard that but we don't feel much for dying, bitch."

"Last chance…" 

"Burn in hell."

"_Your funeral."_

And the light went out. Confused El jumped up and cocked his head from side to side. "What are they doing?" He grasped the gun and the shield.

"Can you maybe tell the blind man what is going on?" Sands asked calmly but noticeable stressed.

"They turned off the light again."

"How scary…"

El ignored Sands and closed his eyes, focussing what was happening around him. He heard the breathing of the man behind him, his own heartbeat… and something he couldn't place well. It was a very soft sound, he was very sure he heard it before. Suddenly he smelled something and his eyes shot open. "It's GAS!"

"_We have a winner… And El, next question, what goes very good with gas?"_

El froze and Sands answered his question. "FIRE!" The chains rattled and El fell down.

"What are you doing!" He screamed furious. But he didn't get an answer. Sands dragged him through the door and tripped a feet down a stairs, making El following in the process.

El landed on his stomach and was about to get up and hit Sands. Right then a huge explosion followed and he had to duck down for the flames. Slowly he crawled forward feeling Sands' body next to him. In a corner they lay down and waited for safety. Painting they lay there, Sands his head down, El looking wide eyed to the flames.

Suddenly the cheerful woman's voice was back.

"_Dear teams of The Game, can I have your attention for a moment please. Our last competitors joined this round. Because of this they won't get to hear what your weak and strong points are-"_

"-Brilliant plan, El, shitsick!"

"_These are the last playmates: Agent Sheldon J. Sands. Dismissed from the CIA, because of corruption and a slight handicap. Fast shooter, manipulative, about 5'9 and hard to kill. Second is El Mariachi, Legendary gunfighter. Very strong, excellent with a gun, 6'2 maybe. Well, this was my last message. Have fun ya'll." _

El blinked with his eyes and looked around. Now the flames where gone he tried to get a good view from the space around him. Slowly he cocked his head up and looked over the edge of the stairs. All he saw was a long hall, here and there where torches lightened. The wall was different than the one in the first room. It was made of stone, not of iron. The whole view made it seem like a torture chamber from the medieval.

Slowly Sands got up right next to him. "Tell me what this looks like." Quickly El explained what he saw. "Nothing more?" Sands asked. El glared at the man. He noticed Sands looked total numb, no emotion visible on his face. He knew that face, frightened what was going to happen but trying to exile every fear for the outside. He figured he was wearing that mask too.

"Listen. You hold the gun, I cover with that thing. We have to come close, because I don't want you to waste that one bullet. You kill whoever it is and don't dare to think about you're conscience. Just shoot, you heard that bitch everything in here is our enemy. Kill or be killed. Understood?"

The words slowly printed in his brain. It was hard but true, whoever was in here was going to get killed. One team would survive. And he was going to be in that team. "Si."

"You're in this?" Sands looked forcing at him, making him directly stare at the dark glasses. Was he really going to trust this man, this rat? He sighted. "I'm in."

A firm smile appeared on Sands' face. "Good, 'cause I hear our first victim run to us."

**Again it's a very short chapter. Guess, I need people their opinion to know if I should write further. Hope so, I kinda like Sands and El being forced to work together and kill some people.  
Hope you liked it, Luzz Sue-AnneSparrow back from the dead**


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